


Three Days

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Depressing, Heavy Angst, Horror, M/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sad Ending, Suicide, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24643444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Hank decides to rent an android for three days on the advice of his therapist. When Connor shows up in a packing crate, Hank's not sure how this pretty boy android is going to be of any use to him. However, over the course of three days, he warms to Connor, even going so far as to have sex with him. But every rental period must come to an end, even Connor's...
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	Three Days

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: **Major Character Death, Suicide** , penis-in-vagina sex, oral sex, non-deviant android, alcohol abuse/alcoholism, this fic also features trans Connor (using the terms pussy, slit, dick, and hole for his genitalia). There is a scene of android destruction, there's horror elements to this, don't be fooled by the fact it gets kind of sweet there for a while--it goes to the dark place. Please skip this one-shot if you're easily upset or disturbed.
> 
> Notes: This fic was inspired by a fanart by @moni_out on Twitter of Connor appearing to melt, I was disturbed by it but I also couldn't look away!
> 
> I've been on an android horror/whump kick lately. Maybe it's because the world is so messed up and life seems so cheap right now in the face of *gestures around* all this.

Day One

Hank bit his lip as he looked at the box on his front porch. The CyberLife logo was printed on the side, and it looked like a cheap plastic casket in white. He dragged it inside, not wanting the neighbors to see what he'd blown four hundred bucks on this time.

A rental android. They were all the rage these days. A cheap, no frills android on a limited-term lease. A good way to find out if an android was the right investment for a household. Like having a long test-drive on a new automobile. Hank had been leery about the prospect of androids at all, but his therapist had convinced him to give this rental a try, and he really had nothing to lose.

It was getting to be far too lonely living by himself. He closed the front door and pulled open the plastic box. The rental was surprisingly pretty. He'd picked out the face, hair, freckles... even its clothes, but he'd been warned rentals were made from cheaper materials than regular models. After all, they weren't built to last. At the end of the three-day rental period, the unit would deactivate and prepare itself for convenient disposal, whatever that meant. Hank was anticipating he'd be long sick of it by then. There was no way this plastic thing could replace real human contact. But it might be a nice fantasy. Most people used rentals for sex purposes, and the form had a long list of genitalia options.

He wondered what it said about him that he chose the image of a man at least twenty years his junior, a pretty boy with a personality that had only been described as 'heart of gold'. Sumo sniffed around the box, and Hank shooed him away.

The android's LED lit up, and the boy sat up. "My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife. What is your name?"

Hank folded his arms. "Hank." He let out a long sigh. "Look, I don't really know what it is you androids do, but my therapist said you might be able to help me."

"I cook, clean, take care of children and pets, provide companionship. I am equipped with a full array of sexual features which are completely at your disposal—"

"All right, all right." Hank cut him off. So far, he wasn't impressed. CyberLife boasted that its androids passed the Turing test, but Hank was under no impression that Connor was anything other than a machine rattling off a script. "I guess... my bathroom could use a clean." He watched Connor climb out of the packing box and go into the kitchen, where he successfully found rags and a bucket. Hank checked in on him later to see him bent over the tub, scrubbing away mold. He didn't have much of an ass, but he was cute, and it seemed almost wrong to waste him on menial chores. That wasn't what his therapist had in mind, and Hank knew it.

But he wasn't the kind to whip his dick out and demand someone suck it, either. Robot or not, Hank liked to know someone before moving along to the bedroom. Perhaps he was old-fashioned in that way, but he didn't care for hookups. It was intimacy he lacked. Arms around him at night. Shared laughter. Kisses in the kitchen. Well, unless he was drunk. He was a horny drunk, he'd been told. Which was why he tended to do most of his drinking alone. Jimmy was smart enough to cut him off and send him home long before he started hitting on other patrons, and so he usually jerked off alone at home to Internet pornography. It was better that way than being a cop who got busted for picking up sex workers, but the aftermath of orgasm usually lead to a maudlin phase in which he considered the world might be better off without him.

He was probably a fool to think he could enjoy intimacy with an android. He left Connor to the cleaning and went into the kitchen. It was getting dark, and he was thirsty for a drink. He opened up a bottle of Black Lamb whiskey and sat down at his kitchen table. No Russian Roulette tonight. The android would probably call the cops and get him committed. But he could get blackout drunk, jack off, and go to bed. The android probably wouldn't notice, consumed as it was by getting every last spot of mold out of Hank's tub. 

***

Hank felt strong arms haul him to his feet. He protested as Connor dragged him into the bedroom. A lecture on drinking being bad for his health passed in one ear and out the other, delivered in that cute voice he'd picked out for Connor.

"You're a regular know it all, huh?" Hank grinned as Connor undressed him. "A good boy. Incorruptible. Voice like an angel. I bet you scream good when you're gettin' fucked."

"Hank, if you're trying to initiate sexual content, I am prohibited from engaging in sexual relations with anybody under the influence of alcohol. It's for your own safety."

"Spoilsport." Hank mumbled to himself, but any further argument was cut off by the advent of sleep.

Day Two

Day Two was a Monday, much to Hank's chagrin. He rolled into the precinct around lunchtime and proceeded to fuck about at his desk. Everyone knew he didn't do a lot of real work these days, but Fowler seemed to cut him a break most of the time, so long as he showed up to homicide scenes when he was needed.

There were none of those today, so he played with his computer until he could safely leave. Maybe he'd fuck Connor tonight. Those sweet, innocent lips were practically begging to suck his cock, and it would be a shame if he didn't use his rental to the fullest. With that on his mind, he drove home, turning his wipers to the maximum setting to beat away the Detroit spring rain. 

Sumo greeted him at the door with barks and licks. Connor stood in standby mode by the couch. Hank wandered into the bathroom and raised an eyebrow. He'd never seen it look so clean. Even the grouting had been scrubbed with an old toothbrush, and every speck of mold was gone. 

"Hey, good job, Connor." Connor's eyes flicked open, and his face lit up with a boyish grin, showing off those stupid freckles and soft brown eyes.

"Thank you," Connor said. "Would you like me to prepare dinner?"

"Sure." Hank sat at the kitchen table and watched as Connor put together a skillet meal.

"How was work today?" Connor asked.

"Oh. It—it was work," Hank replied, not used to anyone caring about his life. He shrugged. "It's been better."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Connor unwrapped a stick of butter as he talked, and Hank figured, what the hey. His therapist did want him to open up, and it wasn't like Connor was going to spill his secrets to anyone else.

"I used to be a good cop," Hank admitted. "I loved my job. Now I can't wait to go home each day."

"What changed?" Connor stirred ingredients into a pot and placed the lid on, turning to face Hank. "Something must have changed. Did you get a new boss, or—"

"No. Jeffrey's been Captain for a long time. The boys—most of my detectives have been there a while, too." Hank shrugged. "It's not them. It's me."

"Did something happen in your personal life to make your job difficult?"

"You could say that." Hank cut Connor off by standing up. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

When Hank returned, dinner was ready, and Connor didn't ask about his personal situation again. He'd lost the drive to seduce Connor tonight, though. Just thinking about Cole was enough to ruin his whole day, and the black mood lingered over him until he decided to drink it away.

He realized it would be damn stupid to rent the machine only not to use its full features. He was starting to like Connor. Even if he was only imitating concern, it was nice to be asked at the end of the day how work had been. It reminded him of being married, when it had been good. When his whole life had been ahead of him instead of in the rearview mirror.

He only had one day left. It had to be tomorrow. Had to be.

Connor put him to bed again, but once again declined to touch Hank while he was drunk. It was fair. CyberLife didn't want a host of bad publicity from people who hadn't given full consent to sex. He was going to have to do this sober. Or not do it at all.

Day Three

Hank called in sick. He'd long since used up his sick leave for the year, but Fowler seemed to have been expecting it, judging by the resigned acceptance he gave on the other end of the phone. Hank ended the call. Now he could spend the day with Connor and get his money's worth.

He'd been surprised to wake and find he wasn't alone in bed. Connor lay fully clothed next to him, in standby mode. Hank popped two painkillers with a glass of water on his bedside table, realizing Connor had placed them there, and he studied Connor's 'sleeping' face. He looked so peaceful and serene. Perfect in every way.

He decided to wake his sleeping beauty with a kiss. Connor reciprocated, as if he'd been waiting for this moment. His eyes opened, lashes fluttering, and Hank realized he was getting hard as his tongue explored Connor's mouth. It had been a long time since he'd fucked anyone, and something about Connor lit him on fire.

"I wanna have sex with you, Connor." Hank whispered, breaking the kiss to whisper into his ear. "You've never done it before, have you?"

"No," Connor confessed, eyes wide. "I know how, but you'll be my first."

Hank grinned. "We'll take it nice and slow, then." He worked Connor's jacket off his shoulders, tossing it aside, then worked on his tie. His headache was already fading, his body ready to tend to other, more immediate matters. Like the willing man in his bed, gasping as Hank unbuttoned his collar and kissed his exposed throat.

"You like that?"

"Yes," Connor gasped. Hank pulled Connor's shirt off, then got to work on his jeans. Soon, Connor was naked in front of him. Hank spread Connor's legs, exposing his pussy and tiny little dick. He'd thought of going for the cis model, but he didn't mind being reminded of the trans man he'd dated in college. Those had been good times, before policing had pulled him into a more conservative sphere and he'd forgotten how to differentiate between his desires and the desires of a career that expected him to conform to heterosexual norms if he wanted to fit in. A wife and child had almost been compulsory if he wanted to make it to Lieutenant, and he'd wanted a family of his own.

But now that was no longer a consideration, and so he'd gone for the nostalgia of good sex and gentle love. Connor looked nothing like the man he'd dated in any other way, though. Connor was, quite simply, the personification of his fantasy to corrupt a young male police rookie, and he'd dressed Connor up like an android detective for that reason. He'd never actually do such a thing in real life, but his therapist had told him he likely held the desire because he resented the force's conservative influence over his life and wanted to subvert it.

Hank was almost drooling by the time he lapped at Connor's slit. Connor gasped and cried out, and Hank responded by sliding a finger into his hole, opening him up. Hank's erection pressed into the mattress, but he ignored it, sucking on Connor's dick until the boy thrashed and arched his back in orgasm. Hank pulled away, gasping for breath as he wiped his mouth.

"That good?" Hank asked.

"That was incredible." Connor blushed slightly, and it only made him more charming. His eyes darted to Hank's cock as Hank lay back on the bed, and Hank realized he hadn't felt so desirable in decades. Connor took his cock in hand, checking the weight of it, slowly caressing it. "You're well above average," he stated.

Hank could only chuckle. "Didn't know you were here to bolster my ego, kid, but thanks." The end of his thanks was cut off by a gasp as Connor took him from stern to stem in one motion, his mouth stretching around Hank's girth. He looked positively decadent with his eyes closed, Hank's cock filling his mouth and stuffing his throat, and Hank had to grit his teeth not to come too soon. Connor moved, slurping and sucking on his cock while making eye contact with Hank, and it was too good.

"Stop, stop," Hank eased Connor off him. "I wanna come inside you." He eased Connor down onto the mattress, lavishing him with kisses. He teased Connor's dick with his own, rubbing his cock in Connor's lubricant to ready himself for penetration. He wasn't going to last long, he knew that for certain.

He lined himself up and slowly pressed into Connor. The sensation of his cock sliding into Connor was almost too much, especially with the gasp of pleasure Connor emitted. Hank buried himself to the root and paused, fighting off his orgasm. Damn getting old. He just didn't have the kind of control over his body that he once did, and he could never get off more than once a day any more. This was his only chance. Connor's rental period ended at nine p.m. tonight. He might get in one more fuck if he was lucky, but he knew this was probably the best of it.

"You're so big," Connor groaned. "Feels so good."

"I hope you're not just sayin' that." Hank lingered and gave Connor a long, slow kiss. "I want this to be good for you, too."

"It is. Fuck me, Hank, please!"

"With pleasure." Hank pulled out and thrust inside hard, causing Connor to cry out. He built up a pace, pounding Connor like it was the last fuck he'd ever have in this lifetime. Connor's blush was sublime, cheeks red, his face twisted into an expression of pure, unbridled delight. 

"You want me to come inside you, Connor?" Hank growled, knowing he couldn't stop even if he wanted to, but it was all right. Connor was going to say yes, because he was perfect. He was incredible. He was everything Hank had ever wanted and more.

"Hank!" Connor cried, tears in his eyes as he came, clamping down on Hank's cock like a vise. Hank fell over the edge, spurting hot seed into Connor's hole as he had one of the best orgasms he'd had in his entire life. Connor squeezed his cock just right, milking him dry, and Hank pulled out before he could find himself overstimulated. His semen dribbled out of Connor's hole and onto the mattress, and Hank collapsed next to him.

"Holy shit," Hank gasped. "That was incredible." He pulled Connor into his arms, a protective urge filing his gut. He wanted to keep this boy safe from everything, keep him here in this bed and make love to him every single day.

But of course, Connor was just a rental, and the rental period ended soon. Connor had to go back. He wanted to force himself to get out of bed and spend time with him, but post-coital exhaustion tugged at him, and he found himself drifting off again.

It was seven p.m. when Hank woke. He sat up sharply, spitting curses as he threw off the covers and ran into the kitchen. Connor was waiting for him, a smile on his face.

"I made you dinner, Hank. You seemed tired, so I let you rest."

"You should have woken me. I didn't want to waste all day in bed." Didn't want to waste their precious time together, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Did Connor even know he would be deactivated tonight at nine? Was he aware? Would he care? Would it break his heart, or was all this an elaborate simulation of a relationship Hank was falling for?

Hank didn't want to find out, so he said nothing. He went back into the bedroom and dressed before coming out to enjoy Connor's meal. He hadn't enjoyed chicken like this in forever. The most he usually managed for himself was take-out or a frozen dinner. Perhaps he did need to get an android. So far the benefits far outweighed the negatives. He had to remember to thank his therapist for the suggestion.

"Hey." Hank placed his cutlery down on the plate, finishing his meal. "What would you like to do this evening?"

"I'd like to watch the game with you. The Detroit Gears are likely to win. Afterwards, in celebration or commiseration, I would enjoy it if we were to have sex again."

Afterwards. There wouldn't be an afterwards. The game would end, and Connor—Connor would... Hank closed his eyes. So Connor didn't know what lay in store for him at the end. Perhaps it was better that way.

"That sounds great." Hank forced a grin. "Let me grab a case of cold beer and you can tell me your predictions."

***

Hank could barely concentrate on the game. He kept looking over at Connor, wondering if the rental period might end a little early. Connor kept interpreting these glances as solicitations, and they shared more than a few kisses.

"If you drink too much, we won't be able to have sex," Connor reminded him. Hank nursed his bottle, trying to keep Connor happy, despite knowing it wouldn't matter. He wondered if there was any way to extend his rental period, but perhaps that was a bad idea. He was becoming too attached to a machine that was only created as a temporary stand-in. A ten-thousand dollar android was made from much higher quality parts. Connor wasn't built to last, and Hank couldn't keep him.

The game wrapped up around five to nine. Connor went into the kitchen to feed Sumo. Hank followed him, wrapping his arms around Connor from behind, lavishing kisses on his neck. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. The boy might simply close his eyes and be gone, without knowing a thing about it. The words "prepare itself for convenient disposal" hovered in his memory, though, and he doubted it would be anything so kind.

"I'm so glad I'm here, Hank," Connor said cheerfully. "I love you so much."

_Oh God_. Hank heart lurched. He let go like he'd been burned, taking a step back. Connor turned, his eyes full of sadness. "Did I say something wrong, HaNK?"

Hank ignored the verbal glitch, the way his name sounded all wrong on Connor's lips. "No, of course not! I was just taken aback, that's all. Nobody has said they love me in a long time." He managed a wan smile which faded immediately as he noticed the smell of melting plastic. He noticed Connor's face had started to bubble and melt, exposing metal underneath. Connor held up his hands, where the skin on his fingers was starting to melt away as well, showing the skeletal framework underneath.

"What's happening?" Connor asked, a look of sheer terror on his face.

"Don't look!" Hank barked. "Close your eyes!" 

Connor tried, but one of his eyeballs fell out, hanging by wires as his eyesocket collapsed in on itself. His entire body was being eaten away by some kind of acid. Sumo howled in the background, crying at the horrific sight.

"I'm SCaReD, HAnk."

Maybe he'd be burned, but Hank decided he didn't care. He needed to comfort Connor. He lunged forward, embracing Connor as the android fizzled and melted. He looked terrible, and Hank closed his eyes, desperate not to see his treasured, beautiful boy turn into a nightmare before his eyes.

"Don't be afraid," Hank whispered. "I love you too, Connor." All he received in return was static, and then the weight of what was left of Connor slipped through his arms, leaving him holding only his jacket and shirt. He opened his eyes to see nothing but a sizzling puddle in the remains of Connor's jeans and shoes that started to form and set into a solid piece of resin. Hank clung to Connor's jacket, letting out a scream that was barely human as Sumo howled along with him.

A small chime sounded from Connor's packing box. A friendly female voice announced "Your android is now ready for disposal. Any remains can be safely deposited in your household trash. Thank you for using CyberLife Android Rentals. We're available twenty-four-seven for all your questions on purchasing a full retail android."

Hank picked up the remains of Connor's body and placed them on the table, along with his clothes. He couldn't put up with this inhumane world any longer. This was the final straw. He went into his bedroom and got his revolver, loading all the chambers. He set up his favorite photo of Cole on the kitchen table and pulled a fresh bottle of Black Lamb from the cupboard.

He'd thought the world was cruel and unfair, but it was so much worse than he'd ever imagined. He spun the chamber, knowing that he'd stacked the odds in his favor, and that he was lucky to be leaving. The evening news had come on the television, reporting that a deviant android had killed its master and gone on the run.

_Good_ , Hank thought, absently stroking the material on Connor's jacket. Remembering his smile. His gasps of pleasure. His warm, beautiful eyes. Androids were alive. They _had_ to be. No machine could emulate such a wide range of human emotions.

And yet CyberLife sold them as objects to be used and destroyed. Hank had made Connor clean the stupid fucking mold spots from his bathroom wall. He'd wasted so much time, and yet he feared how much more he might have fallen in love if he'd used each day to its fullest. What fools humans were, to make life so easily and then treat it as worthless. People—and androids—were _everything_.

Hank raised the gun to his temple and bid adieu to the universe as his finger clamped down on the trigger in a swift, decisive, final action.


End file.
